


Sparring Room Scuffle

by Saryn



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Futanari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saryn/pseuds/Saryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang and Blake spar, but the blonde always wins, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparring Room Scuffle

Blake Belladona could be called many things, taciturn, sarcastic, antisocial, but she was certainly not helpless in a fight, so she was surprised when her blonde teammate managed to slam her back against the ground, armored fist at her neck, strong thighs straddling her and pinning her down. Her ears fell flat against her head in an involuntary sign of frustration, bunching up the ribbons that shrouded them, as she deadpanned, “You can stop smirking now.”

Yang’s smirk slowly turned into a wide grin, her fist finally leaving her partner’s neck, “You’re a fast one!” She commented between heavy breaths, before reaching towards the faunus’ head, tugging at the now-loose ribbon before discarding it to the side. Eyebrows rising, she asked, “Doesn’t that bother you? I hear those can be pretty sensitive.” And a light tap at one of the ears yielded a twitch, shying away from the touch.

The faunus shifted uncomfortably beneath her teammate, hands resting uselessly by either side of her head. She knew Yang wouldn’t just let her up, she rarely did it easily, taking these chances to satisfy her wish to socialize with the quietest of her comrades, “Not enough for me to not hide them.” She answered, all too aware of the blonde’s strained breath, no doubt from chasing her around, and the smell of sweat, oddly sweet, that seemed to waft from her. 

Blake had come to enjoy these private training sessions, the talks, as forced upon her as they could be, and the blonde’s usually cheerful demeanor. Then she noticed the smell, sweet and exciting, that seemed to come from the blonde whenever they sparred, and it wrecked her for reasons she wasn’t quite sure. Yang shifted atop her briefly, that roguish grin still in place - always in place -, and reached over once again, as to gently stroke at the appendages atop her head, earning the blonde a quiet gasp and a low, most embarrassing purr.

The faunus stared up defiantly, cheeks scarlet and chest rumbling with the sounds. She was enjoying it, even as her body stiffened when the woman atop her leaned down, murmuring close enough that her breath tickled the brunette’s lips, “I’ve seen you staring, but its always such a blank expression, I can’t quite guess what you’re thinking.” A low chuckle, as confident and amused as the blonde always seemed to be, “I hope I’m right, though.” Her hands moved from Blake’s ears, to tangle in her hair as the blonde captured her teammate’s lips in a heated kiss, her tongue hot against the other’s, as every part of her always seemed to be.

Amber eyes widened and, for a second, the faunus’ hands twitched, fingers curling in shock as her body instinctively tensed. It all only lasted a moment before that entrancing smell invaded her, and her arms wound themselves around Yang’s neck, tugging her closer, deepening the kiss. The blonde gave an appreciative hum against Blake’s lips in response, hands trailing down the faunus’ sides, not nearly as strongly as the brunette would’ve liked, her movements and kiss giving off a sense of urgency.

She felt it then. An odd bulge that wasn’t supposed to be there, rubbing against her belly as Yang kissed her. Her eyes snapped open as she broke the kiss, raising one elegant eyebrow at the brawler. Yang smiled sheepishly down at the feline Faunus, “I… uh, surprise?” She chuckled nervously, cheeks gaining some color at the smirk that curved along Blake’s lips.

Next thing she knew, the feline had flipped her onto her back rather heavily, her smirk seeming all the more dangerous from her newfound position. She didn’t get a chance to speak, for Blake had already leaned down to assault her neck with nibbles and kisses, one hand rubbing at her shorts, willing her to harden. Yang gave a small grunt, hips rising to meet the brunette’s hand.

She shivered as Blake started to move down her form, dexterous fingers undoing her belt to reveal the simple, white panties underneath. She felt lips along her length, the sensation muffled by the white fabric, but pleasant nonetheless, the cat’s warm tongue pressing against her, a pale hand stroking at the base, applying gentle pressure. 

The blonde couldn’t help the low moan that escaped her, and lifted her head to watch as Blake tugged the underwear down, lips quick to go back to their previous task, tongue running from the base to the tip before the feline finally took the head of the brawler’s shaft into her mouth. Blake closed her eyes then, cheeks tinged with red as her tongue ran along the length in her mouth, one hand bracing herself, the other working at the base, in a slow movement up and down.

The brawler couldn’t help but to reach over, fingers tangling along dark strands of hair before gently urging Blake to lower her mouth further along. The faunus’ ears lowered, in effort and embarrassment, as she took as much as she could, staying still for a moment before rising, with a small whine. Yang muttered a quiet apology, gently stroking her teammate’s head, and the girl replied by starting a slow bobbing of her head, not going as far as she head, but definitely far enough.

Purring. The rumble that left the brunette and echoed itself along Yang’s length was a bit too much. Unused to the contact as it was, she closed her eyes tightly, hand gripping at the hair beneath, involuntarily, as she reached her climax. Yellow eyes widened, and Blake had to pause for a moment before swallowing and releasing the member in her mouth.

Her purring didn’t stop as she moved up the blonde’s body, bumping her head under Yang’s chin in a small sign of affection. Strong arms wrapped around her, and a low, tired chuckle echoed from the blonde’s form; It was a while before either of the two moved.

**Author's Note:**

> Made for Anne, on bringonthatpecanpie.tumblr.com!


End file.
